The Accidents Will
by DenizenKali
Summary: Annie Cresta is only seventeen - thrust into the Hunger Games as tribute of District Four, she'll need more than just her wits to get out alive- but how will Finnick Odair be able to overcome his own demons to help her emerge as Victor? This is the story of Finnick Odair, and his tribute Annie Cresta who will save his life as much as he will save hers.
1. Chapter 1

The harbor horn sounds and I know I've overslept. I'm on my feet dressing and yelling for Nauplius to beat the peacekeepers to the dock before my eyes have even fully opened yet. I'm imagining the last time I failed to wake him before the horn. I can see it clear as if it were happening again right in front of me. He was thirteen then, and the peacekeepers collected him as soon as I turned him out the door to make a run for it.

It took over a week for his back to heal enough from the lashing to stand upright without splitting the wound open again.

"Relax Annie, It's reaping day" Nauplius answers from the kitchen, his voice devoid of its custom verve and lightness. I go in and find him seated at our table, which is little more than driftwood on sticks, busying himself scaling and filleting a small halibut for our breakfast. His face, though hidden behind a thin veil of dirty brown hair, was tired, and I could see the deep circles under his iridescent green eyes when they lifted from the fish in his hands to meet mine "There's No Work on the boats on reaping day"

"Right. I almost forgot" I answer, expecting some form of relief to register- but the sense of panic only becomes deeper and more pronounced. Of course I hadn't forgotten. I'd been up most of the night thinking about it. Worrying about him.

At fifteen Nauplius can stand on his own two feet- he's as proficient a fisherman and as good a man as could be found in District four. When our father died during the storm season seven years ago the dock workers made a sort of project out of Nauplius, keeping him busy enough to stay focused and out of trouble. Though he might be a full head taller than me and wield a spear and net as well as any person I ever saw, he is still, at least to me, a boy, and I want so very much to protect him from the Reaping.

I keep telling myself that the likelihood of him being chosen is remote- we always worked hard and saved enough to keep him from having to sign up for tessera, and District four is so large that the chances of his name being picked out of the thousands is negligent at best- but still, I fear.

"you almost forgot, did you?" he asks in an unusually harsh voice "I guess you were up all night forgetting?"

I wipe the sleep from the corners of my eyes and look around our small shanty home for a flint to get the fire going. When I find the flint, I place a kettle and a frying pan on the double burner and light them both. "I didn't mean to keep you up. It was a brutal night".

" I wasn't about to get sleep, anyway" he answers, he's finished with the first fish and puts the tray on the jerry-rigged countertop for me. "I doubt anyone slept last night"

I empty a cup of crushed grain into a woven bowl from the cupboard suspended on the corner wall and toss the halibut in with it. I can feel Nauplius watching from behind me, his anxiety is so thick it's almost palpable. "You shouldn't worry" I say to him without looking back. I start putting the breaded halibut into another woven bowl for frying. "You've never collected Tessera, so your name is only in the ball a few times. The odds are in your favor"

"And yours Annie?" He asks, slamming a cleaver down on another halibut, cutting off its head. He discards the entrails into a tin at his feet. He misses, and I can hear the wet plop as it slips past the tin and through a large crack in the floorboard into the sea. "How many times is _your_ name in the reaping Ball Annie?"

I freeze, knowing full well he knows I've lied about taking Tesserae. The only thing I'm certain of is that he doesn't know how _many_ times- if he had he'd be having a meltdown. Truth be told, I don't know how many times either. I hadn't done it this year, but in years past I availed myself of it freely, whenever I had to. It wasn't that I was trying to be reckless or anything, but my brother and I need to eat, and more than once our share of grain had toppled out of the cupboard and emptied into the sea. More than once the oil hasn't been enough to warm us _and_ keep us fed. What else was there to be done? Nothing, that's what. I did what had to be done to feed my family and feed myself, and I'm not about to start apologising for it now. "Its my second last year, Nauplius, I'm almost in the clear." I reason, repeating to him what i've told myself a million times "Besides, someone will probably volunteer"

"ha!" Nauplius scoffs "There hasn't been a volunteer in four since the year after Odair won and our tributes were the first on the chopping block. Four doesn't buy into the games the way we used to." He pauses, seeming to re-assess his anger. Real hurt colors his voice when he puts his hands on my shoulders and asks "Annie, Why would you take tessera and not tell me? When was it?"

I don't know how to answer him so I don't. I want to ask him who it was that ratted me out but that would only give him a real admission so I just pretend as though nothing was said and start tossing fillets into the heated pan with oil and some herbs I'd harvested on the trail into town.

Nauplius waits for me to respond. Eventually his hands fall from my shoulders one by one. I don't have the courage to look back at him and when I don't, he heads for the door.

"I'm going to see if Laz and his father need any help securing the Dinghy before everyone heads to town" He's gone and halfway up the deck before he's even finished his sentence. I can tell from the waver in his voice that the only reason why he isn't cutting into me for taking tesserae is because he knows I did it for us, and any real confirmation from me would do nothing but make the guilt we were both feeling, worse.

Laz is my brothers best friend, and his parents, Nautilum and Nora are sort of surrogate parents to my brother and I. They have Three sons, of which Laz is the youngest. The other two have been transferred to other parts of district four, to maintain district residences similar to our own.

Our section of district four is known disparagingly as the dinghy and it's one of the most dangerous places in this district to live. It's a series of brightly coloured and peeling shanty sheds, each built on its own floating dock and connected to one another. They float along the length of two opposing shorelines about a thousand meters across the mouth of a small bay that is a tributary of the gulf of four.

Each 'house' consists of two rooms; The kitchen is the larger of the two about eight foot by eight foot and also serves as our living space. There's a Capitol-provided projector bolted to the ceiling, so we don't miss any Capitol shipment schedules or mandatory viewings. The second room is the bedroom, which is only big enough to fit two standard-issue cots side by side. In ours, Nauplius drags the second cot into the kitchen at night, so we can each enjoy some privacy.

It isn't uncommon for whole sections of the Dinghy to become unhinged from the coastline and float away in inclement weather. Lazarus and His father Nautilum are tasked with making sure that doesn't happen.

The purpose of our humble homes, is to catch migrating fish at varying times of the year as they go through. It's our job to make sure that the appropriate nets are cast in good condition and according to the specifics of the particular species we are after. Several times every day and night we reel them in and set them out again. The men take care during the evenings and early mornings, the women do it during the day in between shifts harvesting oysters, seaweed and other crustaceans back in the shallow waters off the beach when most men have gone to the docks on the mainland to report for work on the boats.

Nearly every moment on the dinghy is regimented, and the regimen is implemented with precision by the ample and deadly peacekeeping force.

When our father passed away, my brother and I were allowed to stay in our childhood home on the Dinghy with the pledge of the neighbors to take responsibility for us. Nautilums' wife Nora moved in with us for the three years between our father dying and my coming of age so that we wouldn't have to be taken into a government home and separated. The peacekeepers allowed it because as natives of the dinghy, we already knew our way around, were experts at checking and repairing the nets, and skilled labour willing to work and live on the dinghy was hard to find.

On reaping day the entire district goes on lockdown, and people are ordered to stay within a quarter mile of their homes until one-fifteen when the exodus to the square begins. Anyone seen at or near a fence or checkpoint will be shot on sight.

From my little kitchen range I can hear the voices of the families gathering on the beach echo off the water. It's an unusually calm day, and the people of the dinghy are pleased because with last night's high winds and rough waters the fish are plentiful. The smell of food fills the air as people try to comfort themselves with what little they have available, inviting their neighbours in to join them.

Reaping day, as terrible as it always is, has a bit of a morbid holiday feel to it. There's a ritual of food and laughter, contrived though it may be, to enjoy and celebrate while celebration is an option. The sense of community it forges is a one-day-a-year affair; today everyone is family. And we're all trying to manufacture a good memory in a landscape of fear.

I've just gotten the last of the fish out of the pan and some fresh kale greens mixed with seaweed when Nauplius returns with Laz in tow. This year is the Last year Laz will be in the reaping. He's a year older than me but somehow I can't see him as any less a boy then my brother, his best friend and shadow.

"Brutal morning Annie-love" Laz says coming in, giving me a one-armed squeeze and kissing my forehead gingerly. He seats himself directly and rests his bare feet on Nauplius' cot. "Hows about some breakfast, and a drink to calm our nerves?"

"What happened? We lose anyone last night?" I ask handing Laz a plate and holding the pan of halibut out to him. Nauplius fetches the moonshine from under his cot and pours some into two tin cans for each of them.

"Almost lost the last three yards. Just finished fixing it all back together though, Nau and I." Laz answered as he took the bottle of moonshine from Nauplius and adds more to his cup. "The Ablines are lucky your brother thought to go out and check their rigging late last night, or they woulda been swept away in their beds."

Nauplius rolls his eyes at Laz and comes to hug me. He squeezes me tight " Forget I said anything before, okay?" My eyes meet his, and I can see the remorse and muted fear behind them. He doesn't want to go through the rest of the day with tension hanging between us, and neither do I.

"forget what?" I smile, wishing that I could comfort him or tell him earnestly that I'd never taken tesserae. But I can't do that, so I swallow my guilt and force the smile to stay on my face "so you're a hero huh? I hope the Ablines had the decency to say thanks this time, instead of accusing you of trespassing".

"Sandy said thanks, and that's all he needed" Laz declares with a hearty laugh and nudges Nauplis in the ribs. I cannot help but laugh with Laz. Everyone within a mile knows my brother has had it bad for Sandy Abline since he was old enough to notice that girls were for more than chasing and pushing into the sea. "you wanna tell me again how she thanked you Nau?" Laz teases

I try to dispel the thought of my brother sharing his kitchen cot with Sandy Ablines, or any girl for that matter. "You boys figure out what you're going to wear today?"

"Same thing I wear every day, Annie. That's what the cameras want" Nauplius answers in the cockiest tone he could muster, mouth half full "and they'll love it"

Laz laughs "we're just bits of meat to them, you know. Especially after poor Finnick Odair. Don't think the capitol will ever let the poor boy wear a pair of trousers again. He's cursed us all."

"So you're both going in loin cloths then?"

"Get with the times, annie. It's what the people want"

"Whatever it is" I say, handing the boys chopsticks "You should dress like real men, not sideshows."

…

After breakfast, laz leaves to be with his parents, and Nauplius and I jump into the gulf. Since the boats are all parked in the harbor and the paroles have it on lockdown, Nauplius and I have no trouble finding clear water for swimming. It's probably the only day of the year you can swim out into the gulf without getting caught in a net, and we try our best to take full advantage of it. So do the fish. They swim with us, and around our ankles while we float and dive.

….

Two hours later Nauplius and I are dressed in our finest and headed down the sandy trail on the three mile hike to the Main square. I'm in a sky blue, light cotton dress I'd inherited from my mother's modest closet. Nau is in the only pair of trousers he owns- green ones with matching suspenders over a button down beige cotton shirt. The reaping is held a few villages over on solid ground, and the entire village has begun the exodus to the main square. Strong drink is passed around between adults, and groups of kids drag each other along by the wayside. My brother finds Sandy ahead of us the group, and excuses himself to walk with her a while, giving me an opportunity I've been looking for.

I find Laz walking side by side with his mother Nora. Her face is one of nervous excitement. Laz is the last of her boys, and this is to be his final reaping. I don't mean that she's happy or anything, but theres a hope glowing in her eyes that says she can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I walk toward them hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt them just in case they were sharing a special moment. When I think it is safe, I approach them. Noras face lights up when she sees me and she embrases me immediately.

"I'm glad I got to see you Annie. I wanted to wish you luck"

"Thank you Nora, I'll need it" I answer "But I was wondering if maybe I could steal Laz for a minute, I have something important I wanted to ask. "

"Of course Dear!" Nora exclaims with a strange sort of enthusiasm and winks at Laz. He shoots his mother a sideways glance and hip bumps her.

I slow my pace and Laz matches me. Now that I'm here I don't quite know how to ask what I want to ask, so I just get straight to it "I want you to do something for me"

"Anythin'" is his earnest answer "'specially in that dress. Blue really does suit you girlie.'"

"haha Laz, I'm being serious. " I pause again, not quite sure how to phrase it. Not sure if it's too much to ask.

"okay" Laz scrunches his face and furrows his brow "lets be serious then"

I chuckle and punch him in the arm "Listen if I end up being you know, reaped-"

"No, _that's_ what you want to talk to me about? No way."

"Laz!-"

"Annie, it isn't happening. It can't. You might've collected Tessera a dozen times but there are hundreds out there who have done it more. There's no way your name is coming out of that ball. Not if there's any justice in the world"

I roll my eyes. I don't know how he can be so thick-headed "You know justice has nothing to do with the name that gets pulled out of that ball."

"Still annie, the odds-"

"I get it. But im not talking about the odds. This is a worst case scenario conversation I want to have, ok?"

"So what is it you want?" He asks. His face is a mask now. He's upset

"If my name comes out of the reaping ball I need you to restrain Nauplius. Distract him, Knock him out, I don't know, but do whatever you have to if it looks like he'll volunteer"

"What?" Laz looked dumbstruck.

"If I'm tribute, I need you to stop my brother if he tries to volunteer"

"it's never gonna happen Annie." Laz assures me, but he won't meet me eye to eye.

"then you can safely promise me without worrying about it. I need to know I can _depend_ on you."

Laz walks thoughtfully beside me but doesn't say another word until my brother comes into view in front of us looking for me. Quickly he turns towards me and plants a kiss on my cheek "It's a deal Miss Annie, but If I get beaten to death for it, it's on your head"

"Remember you promised" I whisper at him

…..

The reaping is held in central four where the square has been decorated with bright blue and green banners for the Capitol cameras. There are armed peacekeepers on every building observing the population to ensure all goes smoothly. Nauplius gives me a quick hug and whispers an 'I love you' in my ear before leaving me to get in line with the other boys. "I love you too miss Annie." Laz throws in teasingly behind him as we go our separate ways.

Almost immediately after our identities are authenticated and everyone has been herded out into the square in lines, Pandora McCafferty the Capitol escort is at the podium with Mayor Epsom, Finnick Odair and Mags seated behind her. The square is so quiet you could hear only the heavy winds coming from off the water intermingled with the speculative whispers from the crowd gathered at the sidelines. The occasional cry of a child can be heard breaking through before being stifled. The capitol doesn't want to see crying children on their screens.

Pandora McCafferty is dressed in a bright blue, shiny and angular dress that juts up and out around her. I think it's supposed to be inspired by a starfish, but when she walks her rear end sways from side to side and she looks more like a disproportioned capitol mutation. Her bright blue lips and sparkling eyelashes only add to the eerie effect. This year she's dyed her hair a soft baby blue to offset the color of her dress. For once I like the color, if not the outrageous manner in which it's been styled.

"Greetings Everyone, and welcome to the opening of the 70th Annual Hunger Games!" Pandora welcomes, adding "isn't it exciting?"

The usual pomp commences with the anthem and the melodramatic vintage video explaining the suffering of the capitol during the rebellion and the history and significance of the Games. The video plays every year, and every year it confuses me. I never could find the logical meaning in punishing the son for the fathers' fathers' rebellion, but then the Capitol never did seem to be a place governed by anything as thoughtful as logic, so much as vanity and bloodlust.

By the time Pandora reaches into the bowl to collect the first tributes name I've nearly zoned out completely. I'm trying to find Nauplius and Laz in the crowd on the adjacent side of the square, wanting to see the relief on his face when someone else's name gets called.

I don't hear it until she repeats the name a second time, and the girls behind me start pushing me forward.

The name is "Anastasia Cresta ".


	2. Chapter 2

When I was five I got caught in a rip tide. It was Nora who pulled me out of the surf but my mother was the one to give me CPR. I came to with a chest full of water, and sure of nothing but my mothers voice, stern but loving, as it guided me back to my own skin. That's what this feels like, out in a sea of bodies, being pushed around. Suddenly I do not know who I am, I don't know where I am, and I don't know what the _hell_ is going on.

The whole place seems to be shifting imperceptibly. I can barely see what's in front of me…

'_Move, Anastasia' _My mother whispers.

I look around to find the voice but it has no owner. Its coming from inside me.

'_Walk!" _she demands_, _I try to obey but I stumble over my own feet. There is no one to catch me but I save myself by reaching out and grabbing…grabbing what?...I'm not sure…_'Careful now… Just breathe and put one foot in front of the other.' _I pull myself to my feet and all the while the girls around me push me forward, as though 'tribute' is a disease you can catch.

'_Don't slouch now…' _The voice is soothing, but determined, as if there is great gravity in every word and with each step it becomes a little bit easier for me to listen. Slowly it becomes easier to see as I keep moving…

'_That's right straighten up…go to the stage…take the steps one at a time…pull your chin up!…. good….. now whatever you do __keep__ your chin up and Don't. Start. Crying._

From my place on the podium at stage right , I can see the great sea of girls and boys, lined in the center of the square. I can see Laz on the right side near the front of the crowd being held by two peacekeepers, and another peacekeeper is standing behind him. There's someone else too, curled on the floor unconscious. And Finnick Odair is there, I can see his hands outstretched and then, I hear the crack of a whip – and I see Nora and Nautilum holding onto each other, and finally my chest is clear again and I find my own skin. It comes on in layers, like waves on a beach:

My name is Annie Cresta.

I was raised on The Dinghy.

I am Seventeen years old.

I am going to die in the hunger games.

The waves are followed by a sense of calm. Or at least, I'm able to _project_ a sense of calm, and that's enough, for now.

The crack of the whip is followed by Pandora McCaffertys voice declaring "Aiden Caldwell" the male tribute for district four.

He shuffles forward from the right end of the crowd, past Laz who is still being born up by the arms by peacekeepers on either side, past my brother who lies face down in the sand, then into the clearing and onto the stage. He takes his place stage left of the podium.

It's at this time when volunteering commences. Pandora McCaffertys bottom gingerly shimmies its way to me and she takes my hand to lead me to center stage. She makes some comment about what a lovely young girl I am, so lean and strong- what a _sufficient_ tribute I'll be- and I wonder if she shouldn't just knife me right here and get it over with. It's clear that the fight in the boys section has unnerved her, and though she's taken my hand she is holding it in just such a way that she's barely touching it. The mild look of disgust on her face can't be mistaken, and at any other moment I'd have laughed, but I was too focused on Nauplius on the floor. He's rolling around now, it won't be long before he comes to.

Pandora asks the scores of huddled girls to the left of us for a volunteer and she finds none. There isn't so much as a ripple in the left side of the square. The only response comes silently, on the right hand side. The boys' side. Lazs' feet find their footing, and though it clearly pains him he straightens up to look me in the face. I don't know what it is, but beyond the pain that's evident, there's betrayal in his eyes. Tears stream down his face. In the sideline crowd of witnesses, Nora holds her palm out to me, and then turns her hand a quarter way twice. This is signal from our time working together on the beach. When something goes wrong but disaster has been averted we signal so the others know it's safe, but peacekeepers don't know anything had happened at all. To them, it's just a wave.

I clear my throat and nod my head perceptibly- an 'I understand' to her, but undoubtedly a message taken by anyone else as 'I'm unhinged'. She hugs Nautilum closer and he buries his head in her hair.

It's Aiden Caldwells turn next. He is a fine, tall glass of water about six feet and lean- clearly a fisher by trade. His blond hair is long and tied back into a knot with a small length of rope. Not quite as handsome as Finnick Odair but enough that it's clear he'll rate well in the Capitol. He has the look of the Dinghy about him as though he feels sort of off balance on solid ground, but Pandora seems far more impressed with him on second glance then she had been with me. She waddles over to him and takes his hand with one of hers and his arm with the other, and leads him across the stage like a prize, commenting all the while on how exciting it is to see such an ample and stunning tribute competing for the title of Victor for district 4.

Her eyes narrow-as if in warning- at the crowd when she asks for volunteers. I don't think she knows it but her nails are digging into the flesh of Aidens' arm.

I hold my breath.

"I Vol-" Laz tries to speak out but the crack of the whip silences him. My eyes fall to Nauplius, who's on the ground sitting up now. It looks like Laz is yelling at Nauplius but his voice doesn't have the power it had a moment ago. I can't hear him!

I'm struggling not to react. Pandora beside me is pretending like nothing is happening at all, just waiting for the moment to call Aiden tribute.

Laz is trying to shake off the peacekeepers. His black hair has fallen out of its knot and I can see him struggling, trying to get through to Nauplius, who's staring at him flummoxed. He's telling Nauplis to volunteer- He's begging him. Nautilum is holding Nora back from running into the crowd. I look, and see Finnick Odair back in his chair between Mayor Epsom and Mags, pretending like nothing is happening, but I can see the twitching of his thumb. He's counting down the seconds with me.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I give you" Pandora says excitedly, releasing Aiden's arm and grabbing my hand with enthusiasm this time. She raises our fists into the air "The District four tributes of the 70th Annual Hunger Games!" She jumps a little when she says 'games' and now I really want to laugh, because what else is there to do when someone is so _very_ excited to watch you die at the hands of an Adonis?

Laz is on his knees, head bowed when Pandora, Aiden and myself take a few steps back so mayor Epsom can take the podium to read the treaty of treason. As soon as it is clear the cameras were off him, Finnick Odair grabs Mags and they both take to the crowd. This doesn't surprise me. Victors are the only advocates the regular people have, and the peacekeepers wouldn't argue with them in a public forum with so many natives around. It looks like they're trying to help- like they are being consulted on what to do about Laz and Nauplius.

My stomach drops. I wonder if Nauplius had come to consciousness- if he volunteered like Laz was trying to? Would the officials let them both fight to volunteer, as was the custom in such a case? Can an exception be made this late into the ceremony?

I watch as nonchalantly as I can while the peacekeepers begrudgingly allow Nora and Nautilum through to collect Laz and Nauplius. Nauplius is still looking around confused as Nora leads him away. Laz and Nautilum, however, stay where they are. Laz has his left arm slung around his fathers' shoulders, bearing himself up. His long black hair dances around his shoulders in the prevailing breeze and his eyes are fiercely locked on me. His shoulders and entire upper body lift and shudder, and I can tell that he is sobbing.

Tears sting at my eyes.

His father says something into his ear and he nods. They both turn and make their way out of the square and away from the Justice Building quickly. From my vantage point I can see the small pool of blood that has collected at Laz's feet and his bloodied backside as he limps away.

I have to swallow hard to keep from getting sick.

Finnick Odair and Mags make their way back onto the stage, and I'm sure when they do the Capitol cameras will pan out to include their seats with them in it. There is always some form of drama on the floor during a reaping, and you never see it in the televised version unless it has some real relevance to the games. I wonder if it's that way in other districts, too.

It isn't long before Mayor Epsom has finished reading the treaty and directing Aiden Caldwell and I to shake hands. When we do, his eyes travel to the left of the stage where Sandy Abline is holding onto our neighbor Emma, whose feet are barely touching the ground.

Our eyes meet and I can see the flicker of determination in his eyes; He's in it to win. There's something else there too; Pity. I don't like pity, so I shoot him a hard look and release his hand from mine.

The moment I do the anthem begins. I take one last opportunity to look out and take in the hilly, sandy landscape and the scattered trees. I try to make particular note of the smell of the sea on the open air, and I breathe in deep.

They are my last free breathes, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

The peacekeepers march me off the stage behind Aiden Caldwell toward the Justice Building and as soon as we're through the doors the entirety of what had just transpired- the finality of it – hits me with such gut-wrenching force I promptly evacuate my breakfast on to the back of Aiden Caldwells' legs and feet.

"Honestly Anastasia" Pandora says with exasperation as she throws her arms up into the air, but her spirits are still so high about Aiden that its seems more an unwelcome surprise then a bother "I know you're excited girl, but couldn't you hold it until you got to the ladies room?"

"Whats wrong with you?" Aiden asks Pandora with such disgust that it catches me by surprise. I'm suddenly glad for him, that he hasn't turned me into an enemy, just yet. At least for now, we're still on the same side.

We're led down opposing corridors by the peacekeepers, and I'm locked into a room with high ceilings and no windows. The door and walls have ornate carvings of crustacean shells in the mouldings and plush fabricated panels of ocean blue on the walls. I've never felt the fabric before. It looks like the same shiny material Pandora McCaffertys dress is made from. It's cool and slippery to the touch. The furniture is all so expensive and delicate looking that I don't want to sit down for fear of ruining something. I pace the room instead.

Tributes are given an hour to share words with their friends and family before they leave for the training center, but It's occurred to me that the likelihood of anyone making it is slim. The thought of never seeing Nauplius again, of not knowing what the full consequences of Laz keeping his promise to me would be, of not receiving their forgiveness -doubles me over.

I jump when the door finally opens and its Nauplius standing there, looking over me with simmering anger and desperate sadness roiling behind his features. A big welt has spring up on the left side of his head and his face is streaked with tears. He gathers me up, tugging me off of the floor and into his arms and he crushes me against him. We stay like this for a long time, shaking together and holding on for dear life. "If Laz didn't stop me I'd be going with you" he says in a struggling voice that breaks my heart.

"That's why I made him promise." I answered in the most collected tone I could conjure.

"you didn't know he'd try to volunteer" It isn't a question, it's a statement. An accusation.

"I didn't" I swore pushing myself away "I promise I had no idea he'd-"

I begin to sob, and Nauplis pulls me back to him "for such a smart girl you can be so stupid Annie" he whispers. "Now don't you cry okay? You can't let the cameras see that, the other tributes are watching now, too. "

I nod my head at him but I can't find words. I'm sobbing harder now

"I need you to try, Annie, Okay?"

I shake my head "Nau, I'm not going to be able to-"

"No Annie!" he grabs my shoulders hard, so hard it hurts. "Don't think like that. You can do this" he tells me, looking me straight in the eyes "Remember Beetee? No one expected him to win- but he did. He just waited. Bide your time. You _know _how to use a spear, you've been using them your whole life to fish and you can weave a net in your sleep. Promise you'll at least try"

"I'll do everything I can" I tell him. This time it's my turn to pull into him.

A peacekeeper opens the door and tells Nauplius we have only a minute. He squeezes me tighter.

I let him go. It's important that I say goodbye. That I tell him how important he is. "If I don't make it out-"

"shhh" he demands and covers my mouth so I cannot keep speaking. He pushes me down into a chair. "You're getting out of there Annie Cresta – I don't care what sort of foulness you have to sink to " his grip on my face gets harder, and the anger that I saw hiding behind his eyes before has come out full force. "I don't care if you have to lie, cheat, steal or fuck your way out of there, but you're coming home. You robbed me of the ability to try to save you." His voice is quivering now, and it's gone up and octave. He lets my face go and gets down on his knees.

He's falling apart. And so am I "I can't do-"

"You took away my choice Annie " he's yelling now, right in my face. I'm reminded, somehow, of my father. "That's all we have, the only thing in this world that's ours and you took it away from me." His face is red and his entire frame is shaking with fury. " YOU OWE ME ANNIE!" He yells when the peacekeepers come in and grab a hold of him. They're pulling him up and out of the room "Remember Annie! You OWE me!" The door is closed in his face and I'm left alone. I can still hear him yelling about me owing him when the sound suddenly cuts off and is followed by a loud _thud_.

I crumble off of the chair and onto my hands and knees. I'm trying to find my breath between the wracking tears. My nose is streaming and the sounds that are coming from me sound like an animal on its last leg. I'm already broken, and I haven't even gotten onto the train.

How the hell am I supposed to win this thing?


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so first I want to thank chele20035 and The Honey Crisp for their support, and for pointing out technical errors- like when I don't stick to cannon. You guys have been great!**

**Anywho, I plan on editing this chapter substantially, but I wanted to put it out there to see how it reads. Any and all reviews/criticisms are very welcome! **

**Thanks again for visiting my humble fanfic**

* * *

I'm crawling on my hands and knees for the door. I have to find out what happened. What the thud was. Where Nauplius is. I need him to forgive me. I need to tell him so many things. Who will apologise to Laz for me?_ I have no time!_

_The_ door Is locked but that doesn't stop me from turning at the knob and pounding against the mouldings relentlessly.

When the door opens I'm nearly knocked off my feet. It isn't Nauplius, its Nautilum. Its so unexpected that I reach for him, I want to make sure he's real. That he's really there to see _me._ He's been a second father my whole life, so of course it's natural he would come but I never expected it. After what I did to Laz, I thought I had no right to.

"Nautilum, you came"

"of course I came, Annie. You're my little girl, even if you're not"

"Wheres Nauplius?" I can hear the panic in my voice "I heard a thud and-"

"nauplius is fine" Nautilum says as gathers my hands in his and kisses my knuckles, once on each hand. He's such a sturdy man, so big and warm and wise, you cannot help but draw strength from him. His son inherited that quality. That ensnaring warmth.

He smiles at me, not a big toothy grin but a smirk "Don't worry Annie It was me. I heard what he said to you and I set him straight."

"Oh Naut, you shouldn't have done that" I say "I need to talk to him…you've got to bring him back"

"what for Annie? So you can tell him you love him? That you'd do anything for him? That you're sorry for taking the tesserae?" he lets go of my hands, and places two fingers under my chin, to pull it up. "He knows all of that. Annie, Even if you didn't ask Laz to do what he did, he would have done it none the less. He wasn't about to let your brother volunteer as tribute."

"where _is _Laz?" I ask "is he okay?"

"He's in one piece. He's outside right now with Finnick Odair." He ran his thick fingers through his salt-and-pepper mane and sighs deeply "Odair convinced the peacekeepers to let Laz come say goodbye before he finishes his punishment. I don't know how he did it, but it's done. We really owe that boy a lot"

"Punishment? What Punishment?"

"Its just a few more lashes Annie, publicly so it's official and makes a statement. Laz has had worse," Nautilum leans in close and whispers "I think _someone_ slipped him some morphling, so I doubt he'll feel the lashes" he winks.

Its true that Laz is no stranger to the whip. He's known around the dinghy as a troublemaker- but he isn't that at all; He just has a problem with injustice. There's some built in mechanism in him that pushes back when the authorities become unreasonable. For a summer a few years ago he was stationed on a ship for training. He became a particular favorite of some of the older deckhands, who told him stories about the rebellion before the hunger games that they had heard from their parents. The following year those same deckhands were brought to the stockade and executed in the Gallows for inciting rebellion. For not reporting them, Laz was publicly whipped for negligence of duty. There was almost no skin on his back to speak of when they were done with him. It should have taught Laz to keep his mouth shut, to keep the thoughts to himself, but sometimes he'd slip and pay the piper for it dearly.

"What about Nora?"I ask. But I already know the answer.

"She's couldn't come Annie. She's sick over everything and, well, she didn't want to make it harder for you. She loves you very much, you know"

_I do know_ I think _its better she didn't come. It would be too much to have to say goodbye to her, too._

"Why didn't Laz come in with you?"

Nautilum smiles, a melancholy sort of smile that ages him deeply "Laz is a grown man who wants to give you a pep talk without his old dad breathing down his neck. He's next in line"

"You need to take care of Nauplius when I'm gone. Laz too. " I say " Make sure they stays out of trouble. Nau still never wakes up on time- you'll wake him for me, right?"

"Every single day Annie. But you have to promise me you won't just give up out there."

"I don't think I have it in me, Nautilum"

"I think you have no idea what you have in you, Anastasia." He pulls me close and squeezes me "I want you to promise you'll try, that you'll train hard. Theres a reason why 4's are known as Careers, and it's not just that we're known for volunteering. It's because we're strong. The ocean has a way of refining your reflexes in a bind. We're used to toil and strife and dehydration. You know, you can probably throw a spear better then even the biggest tributes from other districts. You are _not _without any advantages, Annie. Make me proud out there- just _try"_

"I promise, I'll do whatever I can. Thank you Nautilum, for everything" I tell him. I want to say more, but the feelings running through me are so raw and intangible I can't find the words. "thank you for stepping in and being my dad" I add.

It's the best I can do.

"I love you kid." He says, he's choking on the words now "Keep your chin up" he's backing away from me for the door.

"You're leaving?" I ask, reaching for him "so soon?" I nuzzle my way into his chest and I long for my father to be here, too.

"Laz will want more time with you then less. You should have a good twenty five minutes" He says, taking my shoulders in his quivering hands and planting a kiss on my forehead "I'll be watching"

Laz is halfway through the door before Nautlium even has both feet out of it. He looks _awful._


	5. Chapter 5

His long black hair is tangled and messy and it sticks to his face and neck with sweat and blood. His shirt is gone and he's wearing only trousers now. The bandaging tape wraps right around his torso. There's an intense look in his eyes but it isn't pain- I've nursed him through many an injury and I know his 'in pain' face. This is almost worse.

Somehow my feet are stuck to the floor. My legs have become heavy and I can do nothing but stare him down.

"I'm last in line, if you'll have me Miss Annie" he finally says with a contrived, self-conscious smile. He moves toward me, slow and deliberate. I can smell a hint of moonshine on his breathe.

"I'm so sorry laz" I tell him "I never meant for this to happen"

He places a hand on the curve of my waist and holds it there just watching his hand. Then, his other hand find its way to my face and he holds it there too. He's looking into my eyes but saying nothing. I pull into him and whisper "I think you've been abusing the morphling" and pull back out. I wanted to make him smile, to break the tension a little bit, but he doesn't move. Its like he's here and somewhere else at the same time

"I was supposed to volunteer" he tells me. His voice is just hovering above a whisper "but they wouldn't let me. Not after they'd already took the whip to me." There's shame coloring his voice. I think he may be in shock. "I'm so sorry Annie"

I place my hands on either side of his face, using my thumbs to iron out his brow. His one hand falls from my face but the other stays firmly planted at my waist. He's just standing like a statue, gazing at me with his glossy, wide eyed stare. "Laz there's nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault so don't feel guilty. You did what I asked, and more. I'm indebted to you"

"you can depend on me?" it's a question. I can't believe after everything today he's worried about something so arbitrary.

"of course I can"

"you said you needed to know " he says, by way of explanation "on the trail, earlier"

"I always knew" I answer "always"

Slowly, his hands snake their way around my body and he guides me into him. I curl my arms between us and rest my head on his chest because I don't want to disturb the tender flesh of his back, but he pulls my arms back out and wrap them around him. "I don't feel a thing Miss Annie. I almost wish I did. Tomorrow only the nightmare will be clear, and this will all seem like a dream." He's quiet for a minute before he muses that "Today was supposed to go so differently." He's looking at me but I don't know if its me he's talking to or not. "how was today supposed to go?" I ask. There's a shift in his features, a new intensity in his eyes that puts me off guard, and I suddenly find myself worried about how much blood he's lost.

One of his hands finds the back of my neck, and suddenly his lips are pressed against mine. I don't know what I'm thinking- I don't think I _am_ thinking, I just let him. I'd never been kissed before. I'd never wanted to be kissed before. But now, standing on the edge where I can see my own mortality, it's all I want- to disappear in this moment, in this snare of warmth and comfort. Of safety.

The kisses come on stronger, and his hands begin to wander and I don't know what's in my head, but I am matching his kisses with all the strength I can muster, as if his lips and his warmth can shield me from the world. And they do. For a moment, I forget.

We're moving backward together, toward the couch. My head is spinning and my heart is racing. Both of us are making sounds I'd never dreampt I'd hear from us. And I don't know why, _this_, being with him seems as natural as breathing. We stumble backward together and land half on the couch, half off.

My wits return to me.

"Laz you should sit " I say breathlessly. He fixes himself onto the couch and pulls me down onto his lap to cradle me into his chest. We've sat like this a million times over the years. Laughing and joking, telling stories. When I was younger and his mom lived with us, he'd stay sometimes and he, my brother and I would have to share the two cots in the second room. Sometimes we'd spend entire nights like this, with my head in the hollow of his chest. I never thought anything of it, until right now, but this is always where I felt happiest, most secure.

"do you remember the nights when the tide was heavy and you couldn't sleep? The song I'd sing you?"

"I do" I say. He starts to hum the tune and I listen, before I know it I hear the words coming out of my mouth, just low enough that just us two can hear it:

"So sweet my love came waltzing by

Askin' folks to see

the boy that sailed the ship out

from the dock into the sea

.

So sad, my girl she held my hand

And asked me to describe

The color of the ocean

Where the deepest sea beds lie

.

Her papa told her freedom

Came only in the deep

When you're taken to the ocean

To slumber your last sleep"

.

And then laz continued:

.

"I promised if she'd keep me

if she would be true

I'd take her to the ocean

When the time for sleep was due

.

I'm the boy that sailed the ship

That took her home to sea

She's the girl I kissed good night

When they took her from me

.

I'm the boy who lost the girl

The boy who'll burn it all

I'm the boy who'll lead the ships

Into the capitol

.

I'm the boy who burns the flags

Who's going home to join her

I'm the boy who'll be sleeping soon

With his love underwater."

.

Laz finishes the lullaby, and wipes a tear that had escaped from my cheek.

"Those sailors taught you that song" I say

He smiles dreamily "I used to change the words, in case you got caught singing it"

A peacekeeper opens the door to tell us we have sixty seconds. Laz manipulates my body and in a second I'm below him and he presses himself into me. His lips brush my neck, and then my cheek and rest in a tender kiss that lingers. He looks into my eyes

"You have to come back to me, Annie. If you don't, I won't rest until I've burned the Capitol to ashes."

* * *

**Yeah, I know that this is supposed to be about Finnick and Annie, but finnick himself says that his love for Annie snuck up on him. I'm presuming though she may know of him, or know him by aquaintence, they haven't had a chance to fall in love. So give the story a chance, im going somewhere with this. **

**… You've got to admit though… Laz is a bit of a dream, isn't he? I'm having trouble not falling for him myself.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I want to thank Lady Livia and chele20035 for their words of support and encouragement. You guys make the act of playing god even better by sharing it with me. :D**

**So this chapter is from Finnicks POV. I won't be doing these often, but im sure sometimes I can't help it. Please let me know If you think it's out of place in this narrative because I'm too *close* to be objective.**

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I stare out my train car window and watch the ocean whipping by faster and faster as the train pulls out and I scrape the last remnants of the boys blood from beneath my fingernails. I can't shake off the surreal cloud the day has left hanging over me.

Reapings are never easy but this year it was excruciating to watch play out.

First there was the girl. I was watching her in the crowd during the propaganda piece. It was amusing at first, the dreamy expression she had as she sort of danced on her tippy toes, constantly tossing the wild locks of dark hair out of her eyes to scan the boys section. She was pretty, but in an aloof sort of way; she didn't look like she tried very hard.

I'd been wondering who the lucky boy she was looking for was and I was struck by a pang of, what? Envy? Jealousy? Whatever it was, it was followed by a deep and soul crushing sadness. The world I occupy and the limitations placed on me as a victor rob me of the simple, ignorance-inducing act of any sort of love or courtship. I could never waltz up to a pretty girl like that and enjoy some little splinter of happiness, ever, not without President Snow or some Capitol Harpee swooping in to sully it.

And then Pandora called her name. The look of confusion on the girls face nearly breaks my heart. Mags grabbed my hand and squeezed it- reapings are always so hard on poor Mags.

The girl stumbled at first but composed herself, and by the time she was halfway to the stage she was upright and proud looking, but with a vacant look in her eye like she isn't there at all. I wonder if she isn't a little unstable.

That's when all hell broke loose and I see the boys she was looking for. They were breaking formation and pushing scores of boys right onto their asses, watching her as they made their way to the front. I heard Mags take a deep, wearied inhale "we have volunteers" she whispers with shades of awe and dread coloring her voice.

We expected one, or maybe even both to volunteer but nothing would have prepared us for what happened. Neither of us had ever seen one boy beat another over the head unconscious at a reaping before. It was definitely a first.

We shouldn't have stepped in and played referee between the peacekeepers and the boy who assaulted his friend. I knew it while I was doing it, but I couldn't help myself: It's one thing to watch someone volunteer as tribute for fame, or glory, money or even women. But to see someone who intends to volunteer with the absolute knowledge that he has no intention of winning really got to me. When the peacekeepers broke out the whip immediately to punish him for assaulting that other boy, I knew there was hope to help him. To stop the whole thing in its tracks.

It isn't that I want the girl to die, or even that I think she will. But even if the boy _can _save her, she would have to kill him or he would have to kill himself for her to win in the end. To be a Victor is bitter enough without that hanging over your head, too.

My car door opens and I don't have to look to know its Mags. She jumps on my bed to get across it faster, and drops herself down beside me. From the labour in her movement, I can see that her age is starting to really catch up with her.

"Long Day" she says. She picks up the face towel I was using to clean my nails and tosses it to the side "You did what you thought was right, Finn." She says in a reassuring tone "first time I've seen you try to do something for someone else in a long time, you know"

"There was a selfish element to it" I confess "It'd be easy if he were some ambitious fool. Sponsors eat that stuff up, but the martyr tribute? That would suck Mags. I don't need the stress, and you don't need the heartache."

"they would have eaten that up, too" she says "up in the Capitol"

"I know" I roll my eyes. I hate that we're on the train, that we can't speak freely. Every room is bugged, just like the rooms in the justice building snd our houses in the Victors Village are. The Capitol, and the Gamemakers want to know their tributes so they can optimise the effectiveness of the games. That isn't the only reason though; they want to keep an eye on the victors, too.

"did you listen? "she asks me, but I know what she means. As mentors, we hear the goodbyes in the justice building. The gamemakers transmit the conversations into the earbuds they outfit us with for the reaping ;It gives us an idea about the strengths and weaknesses of our tributes in advance, to help us help them. Sometimes I think they do it just to torture us. Make us really get to know the tributes so we feel their deaths more potently.

But Mags knows I listened. What she's really asking is if I heard the song; if I remember the boy.

And I did.

I knew the song well and so did she. We knew the sailors Annie asked him about, too. I worked with them in my youth, the year I was reaped. Mags' only son Jared had been one of them. I was there the day they were hanged in the gallows and I watched the boy admit to knowing about them, and being tied to the post in the square and receiving 60 lashes for not reporting them, ten per man.

I saw the scars myself when I helped his mother stitch him up at the justice building.

I nod my head yes, and Mags nods too. It's unanimous: he might have had a longer life span if we had let him volunteer.

"her brother was very harsh" Mags finally muses, tears in her eyes. I know Mags well enough to know what's coming.

"I'm going to call Fiona" she says.

"Your maid?" I ask with a grin

"yes. See if she can check in on that girl's brother. I have some choice words to share with him about how to speak to a lady" she tells me, and I know she isn't lying, but that isn't all she has to ask Fiona. Her primary worry right now is the poor boy Laz who she gave morphling to and ended up singing a song that's forbidden, right under the Capitols nose. But its my fault too- I brought him there. I convinced the peacekeepers to let him go to her. He pleaded with me, and I succumbed.

Mags shivers, and gets to her feet. She's determined not to let any of it weigh her down. We both know the peacekeepers won't move that quickly- they can't act when they can't tell people they spy on them in the Justice building in order to justify his execution. On top of that, the girl has so few relatives that they'll need him for interviews if the girl makes it to the final eight, and he's good looking enough that they'll want him on camera.

"Lets go to the dining car. They'll be out soon." Mags isn't asking me, she's telling me. She doesn't want me to sit here dwelling.

"I'll be out in a few minutes Mags. Just going to hop in the shower real quick" I tell her. Truthfully, im not ready to face the girl.

Mags is on her way to the door when she turns around thoughtfully "its good to see you back Finnick"

"Back?" I asked, What was she talking about?

"Yes, back." She answers with a little shrug "I haven't seen that light in your eyes for years"

"'Light' mags?" I roll my eyes at her. I hate it when she gets cryptic with me

"Like you can-" she cuts herself off thoughtfully "no, like you _want _to try to participate in the world again. It was good to see today"

"Whatever Mags, I'll see you in a few" I say.

"lets try not to let Pandora find out about what really happened in the boys section during the reaping. She'll be furious with us for meddling"

"Agreed." I say.

During my shower I have a really hard time not humming Laz's song, and have to stop myself repeatedly.

He's made it _very _hard not to root for Annie Cresta.


	7. Chapter 7

The short trip from the justice building to the Train station was an awkward one. Aiden just stared out the window with a scowl on his face. It didn't look like he'd shed so much as a tear since the reaping. I envied him his strength,.

Pandora was _furious_, though no one asked why and she didn't tell us. She just sat uneasily in her seat, huffing and puffing, crossing and uncrossing her arms and legs. Occasionally I'd catch her staring me down then rolling her eyes and looking away. I wonder if had done something to vex her, but then I realised with a flush of anger that it wasn't my _job_ to care about Pandora McCafferty, and I banish the thought from my mind.

I'm about to step out of the escort car when I see the blood caked into my hands, and look down at my dress. I had seen that Laz had bled through his stitches and nearly destroyed the ornamental sofa in the Justice Building, but I didn't realise my dress had got it just as bad. _What sort of impression will that leave behind? _I wonder.

The station is riddled with cameras when we arrive and I find myself so thankful that I had that last half hour with Laz to calm me down. I could feel my feet firmly on the ground and though my face might be a little bit puffy from my visit with Nauplius, I'm confident it's nothing that will attract a lot of notice. I don't know if the strategy will be to appear weak, or strong, or what- and until I do I don't want to sabotage my options.

Finnick Odair and Mags are there to greet us on the platform and Pandora met them with the same distain she had been showing Aiden and I. She only wore a smile for the camera. It was a stark contrast to the starry eyed escort who'd left us in the Justice Building. Finnick and Mags didn't seem to be faring much better. I want to take a moment to thank him for everything he had done today for my little family, but he seems to be deliberately avoiding me. I don't think he so much as glanced at me once before he, Mags and Pandora disappeared into the train and left Aiden and I on the platform with the Mayor for some final pictures.

It was like he didn't even know I was there, and If he did he couldn't care less.

I try to reason that it's probably because he's Aiden's mentor and as such he has an obligation only to him. That's just fine by me. Finnick Odair has done more than enough for me already.

* * *

I've been brought into a room with a bed larger and softer than anything I'd ever even seen or felt before. The blanket alone is at least ten times thicker than the holey woven one I have at home and I find myself imagining that this is what the gigantic, low hanging clouds that gather over the harbor must feel like.

The window above the bed is enormous and runs the length of the car. From it I can see the Dinghy , the shoreline and the mass exodus of people headed for home and I long to be among them.

I know I should be upset; that what I'm facing down is terrifying, but I'm still riding the strange high that Laz left me with. It was more than just the ability to face the cameras; he made me realize that I _owe it to myself_ to try to win - there's just too much in life left to experience for me to just give up.

The train jerks into motion and as soon as I see the coastline whiz by, I'm hit with violent nausea. I don't know if it's the movement or my nerves but I spend a good, long time kneeling on the cool marble floor of the bathroom which is bigger than our entire house at home.

While being sick into the fancy toilet with strange buttons and dials on the armrests (what kind of toilet has an armrest?), I'm making note of the fact that the sink in here alone is bigger than the metal pail my brother and I use at home alternately as a bathtub and laundry basin.

When I'm done emptying whatever remained in my belly, I reach for a hand bar on the wall to lift myself and the shower comes on. For a while, I'm in awe of it – not just the novelty of running water, but by the heat and steam it generated. And then I'm lured in by it. Stepping in is thrilling, like stepping into a sunshower when a warm front comes in-only hotter and more penetrating- and I can actually _feel_ the chill being forced out of my bones.

The attendant who brought me into these quarters had pointed out a set of fully stocked drawers, and invited me to make myself comfortable, so I do as best I can.

I settle on a pair of black pants that stick to my body softly like a second skin and only go just past my knees with a loose-fitting pullover shirt of the same fabric and color as the panels in the room at the justice building. The label on the inside says the shirt is 'silk' and I try to commit the word to memory so I don't forget it.

That anyone can, or could be this comfortable at the expense of so many others reels my mind, but then I remember I'm being sent to a slaughter and my guilt is assuaged, just a little.

I'm barely finished pulling the shirt over my head before Pandora McCafferty comes in to collect me for supper. There's something softer in her features now, and her eyes are searching mine at the door to my room. She seems to be waiting for something.

And then I know what I have to do. I swallow the lump in my throat and force a smile onto my face "Pandora, I'm sorry if we got off to the wrong foot before. You seemed upset."

Satisfaction rolls its way onto her face

"Would you like to talk about it?" I ask

Pandora shimmies her way over to me- she isn't dressed in the same dress as before, she's wearing a light pink number now, slightly more fitted, with makeup to match. She snakes an arm around mine and pulls me to her –hip to hip-"now don't you worry about a thing, Anastasia. I admit I was a little put off that you didn't tip me off on the stage about the meaning of the scuffle in the boys section, But _really_, the past _is _ the past."

I try to maintain serene features when I thank her for generosity, while I imagine myself throwing her off the train.

She leads me down a long and shaky hall into the dining car where Mags and Finnick are already seated. The novelty of the finery around me peaked at the shower, so I don't even take the time to absorb the room and its rich wooden panelling and gleaming fixtures, it's all just overkill.

Pandora pulls a seat out for me, muttering something under her breath about manners before she excuses herself to get Aiden.

I realise that this might be my only shot to thank them, both Finnick and Mags for their help. I don't know how it works, but im pretty sure each tribute only has access to one mentor, and they had both helped me today.

"thank you" I mutter, hoping my voice isn't high enough for the Capitol attendants to hear. I know it isn't exactly a secret, their help, but I don't want anyone who won't understand, to hear. "Thank you both"

I don't even have a chance to register their responses, if there is any, before Aiden comes through the sliding door with Pandora in tow. She's absolutely glowing. If Aiden was attractive before, he's twice as good looking after a shower and a clean shave, though a little red around the eyes.

"you feeling Nauseous on this thing Aiden?" I ask

Aiden looks at me and there's a flash of apology there before the slightest of smiles tugs at his face "its freakin' killing me" he says. "You clean up nice" he tells me by way of compliment.

"Of course she does!" Pandora exclaims "I mean…don't take me the wrong way, but _really_, you people are always _filthy_ when you step on this train. It's alarming sometimes, the state of tributes. But don't you two worry!" she claps her hands for effect "head to toe makeovers for both of you as soon as we get there. If you think you look nice now, well, just you wait!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, so I haven't been updating as frequently since I've been working uber long hours- however, here it is! The next little installment of my humble fanfic!**

**Thanks again to my lovely reviewers!**

**Without further adieu…**

* * *

I poke at the half eaten steak in my plate and I think to myself that I should have heeded Pandora McCaffertys warning to pace myself and save space. How could one person possibly consume so much in one sitting?

I look to my left and clearly Aiden Caldwell can, because he's scraping the last of the mashed potatoes and gravy from his plate and eying what's left in mine. There's been very little conversation besides the loud sound of Aiden chewing between moans and Pandora exulting the joys we'll experience in the Capitol. Finnick and Mags eat well, but slowly, eying Aiden and I all the time.

"Not enjoying your steak dear?" Pandora asks when I hand my plate to Aiden "did the antiemetic I gave you not work?"

"No, I'm fine, and the food is…." I struggle to find a word that works. This is the first time I've tried beef. The dense, grainy texture and savory taste is like nothing I've ever tried before, and I do love it. "_Fan-tastic_. I'm just not used to so much all at once"

"Well if you think that's good, well-"

"just you wait" Finnick interrupts, mimicking Pandoras Capitol accent, then glances at Mags and winks. I have to supress a laugh- Mags doesn't bother

"See?" Dora says with a huge grin "Finnick knows exactly what I mean. You spend a lot of time in the Capitol, don't you Finnick?"

"I do" he answers curtly, getting up and making his way to the beverage cart. "A Victors job is never done"

"They want him at _all _the parties" she leans in and tells me, as if it's invaluable information to have, and I guess in its way it is. It means he knows people. That people like her admire him.

Aiden catches on fast "Speaking of- you're my mentor, right?" he asks Finnick "I mean, makes sense " he says to me. I don't disagree but I say nothing.

Finnick opens his mouth but its Mags who speaks up first "No. I'll mentor you Aiden"

Aidens' mouth hangs open for a moment, and though Finnick looks confused he goes with it. "That's right Aiden, you get the advantage of enjoying the same mentor I did when I won." He looks at me a moment, as if in assessment, and then with a note of sadness he adds "I've never mentored a victor before"

This information seems to satisfy Aiden, who chews thoughtfully once, twice, three times and then grunts in agreement as he stuffs another forkful of food into his gullet.

"Unless of course you'd like to be mentored together?" Finnick asks

Aiden looks to me. I consider this. Though it would be good to know more about my district partner, I already know he's strong and skilled in ways I can't imagine from his time on the open sea. I know already he's someone to avoid, and that's enough for me.

"Separate" I answer, and Aiden nods. This satisfies him, too. I can't help but feel slightly offended- am I so non-threatening that he doesn't even want to bother to find out my weaknesses? Or maybe it's that he wants to keep his weaknesses a secret, where mine are so glaringly obvious they require neither time nor observation to detect.

"Good" Mags says, eying Aiden "I think that would be best"

"Ooh!" Pandora squeals, noting the clock "the re-runs of the reaping are about to start!"

Aiden gets up immediately, still chewing his last bite. He's eager to assess the competition. Me? No so much. I can feel a knot beginning to grow in my belly. I don't want to see their faces, I'll see them soon enough in the Capitol.

I watch as everyone gets up to go, and I can't seem to master my own legs. "Can I watch in my room?" I ask, hoping I can skip out on it altogether.

Pandora cocks an eyebrow at me "You have to watch, Annie. It's mandatory"

"I know" I answer "I just wanted-"

"Finnick will join you." Mags says, then turns to Aiden "this is good. We can talk strategy while we watch". I suddenly wish she were my mentor- it would be so much easier to discuss my defects and fears with Mags then it will be with Finnick.

* * *

She couldn't have looked more fragile, sitting at the table with horror resonating in her eyes. When she asked to watch alone, I wanted to let her. I knew she intended to skip it- and it was hard to know I couldn't let her. Nursing ignorance of her competition, even if only for a night, was a luxury she can't afford and I can't provide. Not if I want to keep her alive.

I followe her wavering steps down the hallway to her room and watch as she heads straight for the head of the bed, sitting cross legged and looking up at me expectantly. I pull an armchair from the corner and sit, trying to avoid eye contact. I don't want her to see the shame I'm feeling- shame for the thoughts I'd had watching her before the reaping, shame for having to teach such a sweet girl the ways of deception and dehumanisation, shame for halfway wishing she goes as quickly and painlessly as possible.

I was being truthful before, when I said I had never mentored a victor. Mags maintain that for a couple of them, it was because I wasn't trying. I didn't tell her- but she knew, and she wasn't wrong. Mags is like my mother, and she tried so hard to rally support for me in the arena- it was as much her victory as it was mine- and I love her for loving me enough to have done it- but mostly, I wish she hadn't.

During the last games, the advisor for eight had requested a dinner with me. I could have accepted. I could have climbed into her bed like she wanted me to- I could have really tilted the odds in my tribute Avin's favor with a Sponsor that wealthy. She'd contributed a small fortune to the Trident that saved me in my games. But I declined her offer, using a prior engagement as an excuse. I had dinner with a sponsor instead, and though I did get a good sum, it was nothing to what I could have gotten, and even more- it was wasted.

The boy died while we were having our entrée; my tribute was allied with a sweet-seeming girl from 6 who got an extremely expensive gift from a sponsor; gasoline. The girl took it as a sign the boy was going to turn on her and she doused him in it while he was still stooped over the fire he'd build for their dinner.

For a moment I had been furious, but the fury vanished as soon as it had come; A waiter was extending a cordless phone at me.

It was Coriolanus Snow.

"Now that _that's_ over- I've got someone I'd like for you to visit." He hissed, smooth as a snake "There will be a car outside in five minutes." He tells me.

"Oh! and Finnick?"

"Sir?"

"Be charming for me."

I shudder involuntarily and Annie gives me a funny look, like she concerned.

"You back?" she asks with a tilted grin "where'd you go just then, Mr. Odair?"

"Finnick." I answer her

"well Finnick, you look like you could use this" she's not on the bed anymore, she's in front of me, handing me my drink. Had I brought it in with me? I swallow a mouthful of the bitter wine and look up at her.

"Now how about a distraction, huh ?" There's humor and comfort in her voice and it pulls me up short. "How do we turn on this thing?"

As she says the words the screen comes to life, and the anthem begins to play.

"Welcome to the 70th Annual Hunger Games!"


	9. Chapter 9

Walking from dinner back to my car with Finnick behind me something happens. It feels like walking into a wall of anesthetic – it sinks in deep, saturating muscle, bone and sinew leaving a cloying sensation of ease in its wake. My steps waver when it hits me, and I know I have Pandora and her funny pills to thank for this. For now, though, im halfway thankful for it.

I make my way immediately for the bed and watch Finnick pull a chair up in front of me. Now is the first opportunity I've had to get a good, long look at him. I had seen quite a bit of him around the dinghy and in town when I was a little girl, and even more of him over the years on Capitol broadcasts and during the games. Every year he looks better than the last- but here, in person, I could see how worn he had become.

The wear wasn't in his flawless skin or chiseled body it's in the set of his beautiful sea green eyes. There's an old man in there, I think, and a sad one to boot.

He seems a million miles away, and I'm not sure what I should do. There's a profound _something_ there, and as much as I want to ask him to tell me what's on his mind, I know I have no precedent to ask for his confidences. Instead, I make my way to the glass of wine he left on the mantle by the door and I sat beside him and waited.

I can't help but feel something for Finnick- I'm not sure if its gratefulness or sympathy and I'm a little too drugged to go making distinctions now, but it's there and though I don't know what it is, it tugs at me; it makes me want to make him feel better.

When I think his reverie has passed I extend the drink to him.

"you back?" I ask with as much levity as I can muster "where'd you go just then Mr Odair?"

He looks up at me, confusion coloring his features "Finnick" he corrects me

"well, Finnick, You look like you can use this" I tell him, shaking the glass in front of him. "Now hows about a distraction, huh?" I say in the voice I'd use to talk to Nauplius when he's down. "how do we turn on this thing?"

As if on cue, the screen comes to life.

I think I catch Finnick cringe when it does.

* * *

It's a strange thing to be so disconnected from yourself that you can take in the faces of those obliged to kill you with complete indifference, but that's what happens. It's as if it's all happening to someone else, and I'm merely there to observe, unaffected and indifferent as the exact nature of my calamity unfolds before me.

Finnick grunts and calls for more wine when the volunteer tributes from district One, Grippa and Lilia, take the stage. They're both tall and thick and broad shouldered with light features; Attractive, if not menacing at first glance.

A petite capitol attendant brings Finnick a whole bottle, and he looks so gleeful at the sight of it that it give me pause. I wonder how often Finnick resorts to the bottle to find some peace.

In district two, the tributes were also volunteers. The boy Marcus was large but forgettable. The girl on the other hand, Atia, is small and as spry and vicious looking as she is heart-stoppingly gorgeous.

"She'll rate well" Finnick comments with an acid etched voice as he gulps down a mouthful of wine. He hands me the glass, to finish or re-fill I'm not sure. "But don't worry, you will too" he adds with a smile I know is contrived for the sake of my mental health.

I fill the wine glass but I don't give it back to him. I drink it in tiny sips instead. I like the dry and bitter after taste it leaves on my tongue. It's smoother and fruitier than the clear, eye-watering moonshine we have at home. It warms my belly going down but it doesn't burn the way I'm used to. I like that.

It doesn't take Finnick long to realise he's lost it, and after a couple minutes of looking at me with a '_what do you think you're doing'_ expression on his face, he seems to decide something and relax. He repositions himself on the bed beside me and takes to drinking direct from the bottle. I don't know why, but this makes me feel more comfortable.

We watch as the children are called in as tributes in the other districts- these are harder to watch than the reapings from one and two. It's the same every time – there's the calling of the name, and the sad fool who belongs to it trudging forward in disbelief, and then that disbelief turns to terror as volunteers are called and none step forward.

I feel bad for myself before I even realise it's me I'm looking at. It's surreal when I see myself look out from my place on the stage and catch the moment of recognition in my eyes when I finally find myself. As I expected, they don't show a jot of the drama that unfolds on the boys side of the crowd. Finnick and Mags don't appear as though they ever leave their chairs. Everything goes smoothly without a hitch.

"They have good editors" Finnick says, nudging me in my side "it's a good sign though, if they made a point of showing your brother and that boy of yours, it'd mean only bad things for them."

"Boy of mine?" I ask.

"_Loverboy_, you know" he teases "Laz I think?"

"He's not _mine _" I answer defensively. I don't know why but the idea of Laz being mine, or perceived as mine, makes the wine in my belly turn on me a little. I hadn't had time to think about the consequences of this afternoon, and now it's part of a different life entirely, one I hope isn't, but quietly know _is, _ over. My cheeks flush "He's just, well he's just Laz."

."Right, Just your Laz. Got it" Finnick teases, with a real grin this time and I see a softness behind his eyes I don't expect. It reminds me of something I can't quite put my finger on- the thought comes with the taste of sea brine and wet rope on the back of my tongue. It reminds me of my father.

I roll my eyes at him and watch the last few seconds of the feed from District four. Aiden and I are side by side on the platform with Mayor Epsom. I'm taken aback by the sight of myself; positively bloodstained, looking almost defiantly into the cameras. I look almost happy to be there. It's a satisfying contrast to how I looked when I was reaped- like the small waif that had stepped onto the stage had since been reborn into something resembling a competitor.

"They're not going to know what to make of you" Finnick ruminates. I think the wine is starting to get to his head because his cheeks are beginning to flush. "you almost look like you're smiling in that last bit"

"I don't know what I was thinking. It'll make a target out of me for sure" I answer

"I know what you were thinking." Finnick says, in a teasing, caramel tenor that makes my hair stand at attention. I turn my head toward him to find he's intoxicatingly close, just inches away "You were thinking of your Laz" he grins, cocking an eyebrow. Without even thinking, I punch him in his arm as hard as I can.

We both laugh.

"Ow" Finnick feigns injury, rubbing his arm for the sake of my ego "Seriously though, Your composure makes you look good as a potential ally for the other Careers. I don't think you've painted a target on your head just yet."

"I don't think I want to ally with the Careers" I tell him. And I don't. I've no stomach for savagery.

Finnick just shrugs and re-fills my glass "we'll cross that bridge when we get to it"

"And when do we get to it?" I ask

"After the opening ceremonies, is when. When you get to the training center you'll get a real feel for who you think you can trust and who you need to strategize to get rid of."

I roll the thought around in my head. I don't think I like it at all. Especially not while I'm watching the reapings "that sounds wrong to me, Finnick"

"I'm sorry" Finnick asks gently with a note of sarcasm "but what part of the hunger games is supposed to leave you feeling warm fuzzies, Annie?"

I stare at him a moment. I know he's right, that he's just pointing out the most obvious problem with what I'd said, but I can really tell the depth of Finnicks resentment for his job when he says it. But then, I think, it isn't a job is it? It's his whole life. His own personal prison sentence as a victor is to mentor people who are going to die and to smile for the cameras while he does it.

The capitol makes him out to be a serial playboy and inflated celebrity ego, and its easy to believe it's that black and white when you see him waltzing out of the victors village into town to spend his piles of money. But in truth, he couldn't be any different than the rest of us- only with a lot more experience in the currency of cruelty in which the Capitol trades.

"This must all really suck for you Finnick" I say, without giving myself permission to "I'd never given any thought to how much it must suck to be a Mentor. I'm sorry"

"don't worry about _me _Chick" Finnick looks at me like I've lost my mind "you worry about getting yourself back home to your brother and your boyfriend, okay? That's what I'm worried about"

I don't like that he has said this. It connects lines I'm not ready to connect.

I'm pretty sure Finnick can tell he's upset me from the way I sit up straight before getting up from my spot at the side of the bed. I start leafing through the drawers absently, as if looking for something, but I'm not sure what I'm looking for. My mind just seems to work better while I move.

"what are you doing Annie?" Finnick asks

"im thinking" I say. I've found a canary yellow silk nightie in the second drawer that I put to the side for later. I should enjoy nice things while I can.

"does opening and closing doors arbitrarily help with this process?" he asks

"yes." I answer " as a matter-of-fact it does. It helps a great deal". I'm quickly running out of drawers so I start again. This time I start fixing the pieces I messed up during my first pass.

"Why don't you think out loud?"

"I don't like that Finnick" I tell him, turning on him. I think I might have stamped my foot when iw as doing it.

Finnick looks like he's about to bowl over laughing "what don't you like?"

"'_boyfriend_'" I mimick him " and '_my Laz_' its silliness! It's imaginary. We both know im not going to make it through this thing. Ill try. I promised to, but if I win it's not for him"

This wasn't the response he expected. "Annie-"

"Don't 'Annie' _Me_ mister." I cut him off. I'm not yelling, in fact my voice is entirely even, still unaffected. And though all of this truth is dawning on me, the drugs still keep the heavy emotion at bay. I'm appealing to reason, not emotion. I think this catches Finnick off guard more than anything else. "You think he'll still want me even if I do win? You think I'll want _him _when I'm all messed up from the Games? You think, if I do live, it'll be me that walks out of there?"

Finnick just stares at me wide eyed, without words, and with all the humor in his face drained away. He knows exactly what I mean, and he knows im right but he didn't expect me to catch on so soon.

"I don't know what you know about today." I sit down on the bed, but further away this time. "I know what you think about Laz and I. But before the reaping I never entertained thoughts of him. When he came to visit me I submitted to everything I know I would have had if the reaping didn't happen. That doesn't mean I harbour any illusions about going back to it. That life is already dead to me."

A girl named Dinah just stepped out in front of the justice building. Finnick and I watch her walk across the stage to the district Escort. "I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of there" finnick says, looking at the screen.

"Me too." I answer "That doesn't mean anything will ever be the same if I do"

"That's true" Finnick answers

"I'm going to go change" I declare, grabbing the pj's I'd put aside

"Annie, you've got to watch the reapings with me" he says, trying to be stern and failing at it.

"I won't be a minute." I shrug "Besides ill see them all tomorrow"


	10. Chapter 10

I undress but I don't change. I lie naked on the cold tiling of the bathroom floor feeling the friction from the car bracing the tracks resonate deep in my bones, leading me further and further from home.

I imagine myself falling apart into large, invisible pieces and sinking through the tiles. Falling drip drip drip onto the tracks, taking the real Annie Cresta away - her hopes, dreams, unclaimed kisses and exultations- and leaving them in the past forever.

What I want is to cry- it seems appropriate to mourn the loss of yourself, of your future. I feel like I should scream until my very heart dislodges itself and stops beating from the sheer violence of my exertions.

But I can't.

I can only lie there, cold on the inside and without.

It's all exhausting.

* * *

_"Annie what in the hell do you think you're doing?" _My dad is standing at the door, looking repulsed. His face is bloated and sagged from the sea, like he was when he washed up on the beach all those years ago

I get up immediately and pull on the canary yellow pajamas. "Absorbing" I answer. I know he isn't there but I can't help addressing him as though he is.

"Is that the word they use for self pity these days? Absorbing?" he asks in his sailors husky voice, thick with criticism and love at the same time. They always wrestled in his voice, one winning out over the other on rare occasion. But he always used that tone.

"I just needed some time to think" I answer him

"what did I teach you young lady? About answering me?" he asks. He thinks im lying to him. "Say what you mean, Annie. What did you need time to think about?"

"Winning the hunger games"

"_liar_" he accuses. There are patches of hair missing from the sides of his head, where the fish got to him. "You had forfeiture on your mind."

"you always said that winning isn't everything" I answer, sarcastically with a shrug, tying my hair into an angry knot at the back of my head. I'm eleven years old again, speaking before I think.

Dad cracks a smile and my heart breaks "it's how you play that matters" he whispers. He comes in close and I can almost smell him, not the smell of rot and bloat but the way he always smelt before that - like musk and fish and the wet smell of the sea on his clothes. "_You have to play."_

"I can't win" I say "even if I do win, Dad."

"you don't know until you try." He answers me,

"I don't know if I want to" I say

"You're a _Cresta,_ Annie. There's only you and Nauplius left." He answers "you _have _to"

And then he's gone and Finnick Odair is knocking on the door.

"Annie? Are you okay in there?" he asks, turning the knob and throwing the door open. He looks around the room. "who are you talking to?"

"no one" I answer "Just myself"

His eyes finally rest on me, first with concern, then with surprise as he surveys me a second time, head to toe with lingering eyes.

"You should get some rest" Finnick says finally, breaking his stare and turning around "tomorrow will be a very long day"

"I don't think I'm going to get any sleep" I reply, watching as he makes his way on out of the room to the train car door, taking the bottle with him.

"Try, you'll need it. " he answers simply, pulling the car door open and disappearing into the hall.


	11. Chapter 11

"

**So I have been doing very little writing lately, but these last couple of days have been sort of inspiring. I really hope you all enjoy it.**

**Not sure if im going to stick with this, or delete the last couple chapters and start from scratch. Feedback would be fantastical!**

**thanks, as always, for visiting my humble fanfic :D**

* * *

Clearly Mags made a mistake, and it's a mistake I intend to fix. Now.

I navigate the byzantine train corridors toward Mag's car with the spectre of the girl in the bathroom rattling around in my brain. The spectre has a name, and its name is fear.

I don't like it.

I Don't like _her,_ with her clarity of mind, her infuriating kindness and her unmitigated beauty- what can I do with that? How can I save her without living with the image of those phantom capitol claws pawing and drooling at her if she wins? How can I save her without losing whatever is left of my soul in the process?

Mags gets to her car just a moment before I do. She sees me in the hall but enters her car anyway, closing it behind her. I take a second to collect myself before I go in.

"Whats done is done" Mags says to me before I even have two feet through the threshold "too late to switch tributes now"

She's wearing a smug smile that from anyone else would have elicited a violent response from me. It felt mocking.

"I'm sure the girl won't mind." I persist "I doubt she'll even remember tonight, you know Pandora gave her some of those horse tranquilizers she called motion sickness pills and by the time I left she was talking to herself in the bathroom"

Mags smiled "there was an anti-anxiety pill in there, I think"

"how do you know?" I ask

"The girl took three. One was pink, the other two were white. She wasn't looking when Dora put them in her hand and just took them. I think Dora was trying to help her"

"That's a contrast to earlier, when she was cursing the girl for not tipping her off that there could have been a brawl for the tribute title" I say. Pandora really was furious when she finally had the presence of mind to put everything that happened at the reapings together. She'd torn a strip out of Mags and I for our interference in the whole thing, and was only calmed down when I promised I'd take her to a private dinner Ceasar Flickerman was hosting to celebrate the games after the opening ceremonies. "Since when does she care?"

"Dora just wants her to get a good sleep so she has a fresh face for the beauticians to work with in the morning."

"I should have thought of that." I say "I still think the girl will be better off with you though"

"too late. Aiden and I have already been working together." Mags turns on the screen in her room. The reapings will be playing over and over with various commentators conjecturing for the rest of the night. Mags always makes a point of watching, not because she enjoys it, but because commentators have ways of getting information quickly, and whatever she knows about the other tributes, the better to prepare her own. She's a damned good mentor.

"I can't do this Mags" I say, and I mean it. I see my desperation register in Mags' eyes but she's unmoved.

"dramaqueen" Mags rolls her eyes "yes you can. You have no choice"

"how do _you_ do it mags?"

"Finn, I have no idea what you mean and im tired. Speak plainly"

"How do you help them? invest yourself and get disappointed year after year?"

"I don't get disappointed year after year." She answers simply, folding down the top sheets on her bed "I've got you" she adds, as proof.

"but how did you justify helping me win, knowing what would end up happening to me?" I ask. It's a heavy question, and the weight of it slumps her shoulders. Mags is my rock, and she always has been, but since my victory, since the first time I got a call from President snow asking me to make a visit for him- we've never really spoken about it. None of the victors do. It's one thing to live with the memory of the games and the ghosts of your victims, and the multitude of burdens that comes with being victor- but to train others for your same fate is the icing on the crazy cake. Very few can handle it, nevermind talk about it.

Mags looks about the room and I know she doesn't want to answer, not when _they _ can hear us. "People _like you_ finnick." She says emphasising how much they like me when she raises her brow, as if giving a hint "you didn't need my help to influence the audience." Her eyes are searching mine to see if I understand.

I'm not sure if I do.

She sighs, frustrated "you didn't need my help to win. But I _do _need your help with these" she says sternly, shaking the bedsheets with her frail hands. Mags doesn't like things over her when she sleeps, but hates the feel of a made bed under her.

I take the other side and help her pull them down, and fold them at the base of the bed layer by layer. As we fold the final layer Mags starts humming laz's tune. She's watching me while she does it. Still searching for understanding in my eyes.

And then it dawns on me. She has bigger plans then just being a good mentor- she thinks that victors hold sway over the capitol. The people.

_I'm a pawn to her too._

She finally breaks eye contact with me. She knows I get it and she stops humming "that damn song really is catchy, isn't it?"

"I don't think so" I answer. My first instinct is to feel betrayed, but then I think of her son, who died the year after I was reaped for treason. Of the boy Laz who was too young to die with them, whipped in the square. I always knew there was a streak of rebellion in Mags. One I thought I shared- but to sacrifice a life to gain a possible future upper hand is low. Too low for my Mags.

"Oh I don't know" Mags says in an airy voice. She won't make eye contact with me – I know there's an element of shame there. "It creeps up on you" she says with a bite of bitterness.

"Goodnight Mags" I say dismissively, slipping through the door

"Finn" she calls after me.

I hesitate, but turn to go back in.

"you've got to do what you can while you have the power to do it." She's explaining herself, but theres advice there too "do what you can live with doing. We're all going to die, Finnick. Victors live with being mentors because they have to – sometimes they go the extra mile because a tribute presents something vital- and the mentor can't live with letting that light get snuffed out. Motives are meaningless if you don't put them in the context of the perpetrators heart"

"I'm not following you Mags"

"You could have saved Avin last year. You chose to let him die, rather than suffer a the fate of victory" she says "The only reason I didn`t judge you for not going to dinner with that advisor was because I understood where your heart was. That you couldn't bring yourself to do it"

"I see" I answer, before turning and making my way back out of the car and toward my own, every step forward belabored by the new burden on my back; this insane notion of rebellion- of victors being capable of inciting or even assisting such an endeavor is so fantastical that I can't help but Feel sorry for Mags. Her terrible life, all the pain she's seen, has truly made her delusional.


End file.
